Mad As Hell - Part 4 - Hell Freezes Over
by Lancer1968
Summary: The conclusion...


Mad As Hell - Part 4

Summary: Hell Freezes Over

Usual Disclaimers Apply

Morning dawned at Lancer with the raucous crowing of Teresa's prized Brahma cock rooster, Mortimer, waking the sleeping inhabitants from their slumbers, calling for them to begin a new day of sweat and toil in the hot August summer. Johnny and Scott stumbled to the kitchen for breakfast, where Murdoch was sipping his coffee consulting with Cipriano over the day's duties.

"Rough night, boys?" inquired Murdoch, noticing their blurry eyes.

"Nope, just a long one," grinned Johnny as he prodded Scott with his elbow to jostle the blond awake.

Scott rapidly blinked his eyes as he yawned from his lack of sleep. Trying to keep his little brother out of trouble was proving to be a full-time job that was playing havoc with him getting a good night's rest.

"No sir, the usual...poker, drinks, ahhh upstairs diversions at Blackjack's. Johnny's a growing boy who likes to ahhh dance on the wild side of life, unfortunately all night long," he grumbled taking a long sip of the steamy hot black coffee.

"Me? Don't listen ta him Murdoch, I had ta pull Scott away from his girlfriend at 1:00 am ta get back here in time for a little shut-eye."

"1:00 am is a little late, isn't it my sons?"

"Or early, depending upon where ya stand!" Johnny impertinently grinned.

"Harrumph."

Scott lifted his head from his bent elbow, "How's Teresa? Feeling any better? I hope so; she can go to town with this one next time. It's like he's intentionally trying to wear us out one at a time."

"Harrumph. Teresa is currently indisposed; she's to clean up that disgusting mess in her room today. And you, young man, are never to think about giving her anything stronger than weak tea ever again. Got it?" directed Murdoch, pointing his fork at Johnny with a scowl on his face to indicate that he meant business.

"Yessir," he mumbled and then tore off a large piece of bacon with his teeth that he slowly chewed.

"I'm serious Johnny; regardless that she was making a nuisance of herself. I expect you to maintain proper decorum with her at all times from this point forward. I'll be watching, the both of you."

Johnny stared at his father with the look of an innocent man wrongly accused of a crime, "Yes, pa. But what if she starts in on me again? Trailin' after me like a love sick cow lookin' ta mate?"

"You let me know and I will tend to her."

"'kay," he agreed smirking at Scott who was now holding his head between his hands, moaning softly.

"Boys, for today and however long it takes, you'll need to move the cattle from the south to the north pasture for feed and water since the days of hot weather seem to be droning on with no rain on the horizon. Pack your gear so you can stay out for the next couple of days moving the cattle."

"Ya just want us away from Teresa for a few days, ain't that the general idea Murdoch?" questioned Johnny.

"Son, it will be good for all concerned to have some time and distance to mend the wounds. Now finish up and get moving. Cipriano will send Pedro and Frank out with you to help. Maria's been gathering your food supplies."

With Murdoch's return to Lancer from Modesto, the great patron intended to hold tight grip on the reins, containing in his sons and Teresa in one fell swoop. Getting the boys away from the ranch for a few days working in the heat after a night on the town would serve to teach the boys a much needed lesson in responsibilities along with consequences. While Teresa had her own day of reckoning to concentrate upon, as Murdoch raised his eyes upward, listening for sounds of stirring from her room. It was all too quiet. Murdoch watched Johnny and Scott climbed the stairs to pack their trail gear.

Sighing Murdoch got up from the table and grabbed a pitcher of cold well water from the table, he heading up the back stairs, knocking once on the young girl's door. Getting no answer, he opened the door, turning up his nose at the horrendous odors. Having enough of her stinking up the room he pulled back the heavy drapes allowing the sunlight to brighten the room. Teresa was sprawled in her bed on her belly, her long hair draped every which way, snoring. "TERESA!" Nothing... "TERESA!" Nothing...

Johnny pulled Scott to a standstill, signaling with his index finger to his lips. Both had their saddlebags and rifles in their hands, as they crept along the hallway pausing in the shadows near Teresa's doorway.

Murdoch tried one more time, "TERESA!" Nothing... Well enough was enough he thought, holding the pitcher of water over her head, he poured out the contents in a steady stream drenching her head, water trailing down the back of her neck and onto the covers. Shrieking awake at the cold wetness that was saturating her hair and bed clothes she turned over to see Murdoch standing with the empty pitcher in his hands, scowling at her.

Johnny and Scott wisely decided that they should continued on their way and not get caught spying. Johnny grinned as he mounted the banister to ride it down to the first floor, while Scott took the steps. They strapped their gun belts to their slim hips. Johnny took his time to make certain his pistol was properly adjusted, fiddling with the buckle until satisfied with the positioning, he chuckled to Scott, "Well, that's one way to wake-up the death."

Scott pointed his finger at Johnny, "Johnny, don't start, we have enough problems of our own to contend with...thanks to you!"

"Me? Come on Scott, I already told ya that none of this was my fault."

"Keep your voice down, Johnny. You don't want Murdoch running down here, raving at us. We got lucky last night; let's not press our luck any further, brother. Let's go."

Upstairs Murdoch chuckled at the exchange he could hear from his sons. He knew that Scott would be taking charge of his younger sibling, probably kicking the youth's butt later in the day when the heat subsided and they were able to take it easy for a few hours. Now on to some butt kicking of his own with Teresa.

Teresa had at least pulled herself vertical in her damp bed, clutching her blanket to her heaving chest, she sobbed, "What did you do that for Murdoch?"

"Teresa, get out of that bed and get moving! The boys are paying for their hand in this sordid affair; you will now do the same, young lady. Get this mess taken care of, NOW! You'll get no sympathies from me. If this room isn't improved drastically by noon today, we'll be having a father-ward discussion in the barn! I mean it!"

Her tears had not moved the granite boulder that was Murdoch, her goose was cooked and she knew it. Not wishing to engage in a father-ward discussion in the barn she was meek in her compliance uttering a simple soft, "Yes sir."

"Good." Murdoch with pitcher in hand, walked to the door, looking back at her, he almost felt sorry for her, almost. But knew that if he didn't make her life miserable right now, she would not learn the lesson he was teaching... responsibility for her actions. He stood in the doorway waiting until she climbed from the bed, holding her wet, putrid blanket around her for cover.

"I'm up, Murdoch," she glumly stated, rocking slightly as she acclimated to being vertical and not horizontal.

"Good. I better hear some activity from this room by the time I get back downstairs, young lady."

"Yes, Murdoch."

He closed the door, waiting on the other side for sounds, soon enough he heard footsteps as she crossed the room. He hoped she would perform her morning rituals by using the chamber pot instead of the bed, cleanse herself, put on some fresh clothes and get her mess dealt with in short order. Murdoch took the back stairs down to the kitchen to return the pitcher, grabbed a cup of fresh coffee that Maria handed him with a quick, "Gracias, Maria."

"De nada, Senor, de nada."

Teresa, struggled to recoup from her wretched bout of intoxication, something she vowed she would nevermore be party to or be foolish enough to think she could "run with the big dogs." She had the spent the last three days in a stupor, suffered every ill-effect of a hangover possible, including bags under her eyes, a queasy stomach and painful headaches. Now the hard part was to clean up her room. "It isn't fair," she shouted to the walls, stamping her foot in revolt. "Murdoch hates me as do Johnny and Scott! Just because I'm not their blood kin!"

Looking around the room, she wanted to fling herself back on her bed to have a good cry, but thanks to Murdoch it was soaked. Instead she pounded her clenched fists on the door with a bang. Holding her breath she waited and listened for Murdoch's return to see what was going on. Five minutes ticked by before she knew the coast was clear, "He probably thinks I'm following his orders." She sat crossed-legged on the floor for another fifteen minutes as if in a trance, rocking herself and singing:

Raven hair and ruby lips  
Sparks fly from her finger tips  
Echoed voices in the night  
She's a restless spirit on an endless flight

Wooo hooo witchy woman, see how  
High she flies  
Woo hoo witchy woman she got  
The moon in her eye

She held me spellbound in the night  
Dancing shadows and firelight  
Crazy laughter in another room  
And she drove herself to madness  
With a silver spoon

Wooo hooo witchy woman, see how  
High she flies  
Woo hoo witchy woman she got  
The moon in her eye**

Murdoch raised his eyes upward, cocking his head to listen, hearing soft singing and nothing else; he stepped to the base of the stairs to bellow, "TERESA! DON'T MAKE ME COME UP THERE, YOUNG WOMAN."

Snapping out of her trance, she got to her feet with her plan for revenge against the brothers and their father. Realizing it would require their complete trust in her again, she evilly smirked as she formulated her plans. Opening the door, she yelled downstairs, "I'm taking care of things Murdoch! I'll be down with a load of things for the fire pit momentarily."

"Good, I would hate like heck to have to tan your backside, if you force the issue."

"I won't, Murdoch, I'm figuring out what to do first, that's all."

Shortly Teresa dragged a load of ruin linens out to the fire pit, "I know he wants me to wash these but I'm not going to, they'll never be the same..." she stopped in her tracks and with a sudden change of mind, took them to the laundry area, tossing them into a large wooden bucket, pumping water into the bucket to soak the mess.

Heading back up stairs she next brought down the curtains, then the mattress putting them into the fire pit and lighting it. Only thing was they weren't her mattress or curtains, she had dragged down Johnny mattress, replacing his with hers and her curtains in place of Scott's. Smiling she had closed their doors to let the heat and closed windows go to work in their rooms. She knew that they would be gone for a few days; plenty of time to finish up her revenge, serving it on a silver platter to those two would be her delight.

Going back to the laundry room, she took the soaked but not soaped or scrubbed sheets out of the bucket and flung them over the line to dry. Then back upstairs with a bucket of soapy water and some rags, rags that she used to wipe up her own malodorous mess. Smirking with barmy wicked intentions running through her head and her heart, Teresa tip-toed back into each of the boys' rooms, where she placed a sullied rag under their beds in the far back corner where they wouldn't be noticed.

Back to her room where she used the soapy water with fresh rags to wiped down the walls and the floor, making it as presentable as possible since noon was fast approaching. She was still queasy with a slight fever she thought, but there was more work to do to pay back those two insufferable Lancer boys. She was dragging up a bucket of fresh water to begin rising everything down when Murdoch came in checking on her progress.

"Ahhh, Teresa, your room looks and smells so much better. When you're done cleaning in here, get the paint and give the room a fresh coat. That should keep you busy until dinner time. I'll have Ciprano bring in the new mattress he picked up in Morro Coyo today. I'll be deducting the cost of it from your allowance in repayment, as well as for the material for the new curtains and bedspread. Tomorrow you can work on making those curtains and bedspread."

"Okay, Murdoch. It will be like having a brand new room when I'm done. I'm sorry for all the trouble that I caused."

He started to give her a quick hug but withdrew noticing that she still needed to take a proper bath to be bearable, "Teresa, we all make mistakes and have to learn from them, all part of growing up. If you're hungry, go get something to eat."

"No, Murdoch, I don't think I could eat anything yet. When will Scott and Johnny be back? I want to tell them how sorry I am. I hope they're not angry with me?"

"They'll be back in a few days, give everyone some time to settle down. Put this all behind us and move forward."

"Sure, Murdoch, all behind us, moving forward, can hardly wait," she said. But she thought, "When hell freezes over, you spiteful old fart."

Later that day, after she had painted her room, Teresa removed her unclean sheets from the clothes line and took them back upstairs. She crept back into Johnny's room, replacing his sheets with hers. Smirking, she stepped into Scott's room and short-sheeted his bed for added measure. She grinned noticing that the smells were indeed infiltrating their rooms.

Done with all of her despicable acts for the day, satisfied that the boys would be in for rude awakenings for messing around with her, she took a change of clothes down to the bathhouse. Soaking in the hot tub, she leaned back thinking of yet another way to repay those boys, well Johnny in particular for what he did to her but Scott and Murdoch would especially feel the heat from her idea.

Two days passed and Teresa was back in high spirits, tending to Murdoch's needs with good humor, humming her little tune to herself while she made a dessert for tonight's dinner. Her trap had been set; she had placed a fresh change of clothes for the boys in the bathhouse, to keep them from going into their rooms until bedtime.

Making Johnny's favorite chocolate cake kept her occupied as she made certain her extra special ingredients didn't break the batter texture down into a running mess. She smirked as she knew at some time later in the evening; all three men would need the outhouse at the same time! Her cake baked, with several secret ingredients inside. After it had cooled she generously iced it with a thick layer of tempting chocolate that would make Johnny's eyes bug out, licking his lips in eager anticipation of tasting it, as soon as dinner was over.

Hearing horses in the courtyard, she quickly removed her apron, smooth back her hair and headed for the door, ready to eat humble pie in greeting the brothers. Johnny eyes locked on her as did hers with him. She smiled with the right degree of hesitancy, casting her eyes downward, waiting for him and Scott to approach her.

"Teresa, you're lookin' good, nice ta see ya," he greeted her, making ready to brush by her.

"Johnny? Scott? Please stay for a moment; I have something to say to you both...please?"

Scott held Johnny back, "Johnny, let her speak. Be nice."

Teresa smiled with her dimples displaying, flashing her teeth at them, "Thank you, Scott. Thank you, Johnny. First let me apologize for my unfortunate behavior. I don't know what overcame me, and just want us all to be friends again. Pretty please? I put a change of clothes for both of you in the bathhouse, along with fresh towels. And I've made your favorites for dinner, steak, mashed potatoes and gravy and sweet potatoes with corn bread and there's chocolate cake for dessert."

"Chocolate cake?" asked Johnny, his mouth already watering. "Ya made me a chocolate cake?"

"Well, it's for everyone, Johnny, not just you," she chided the young man. "Why don't you go clean-up? Are we friends again?"

"Ya sure, Teresa, after all ya bake me a chocolate cake!" grinned Johnny.

"Teresa, we were never not friends, just a little misunderstanding is all," said Scott, ever the diplomatic between whomever was pissed off at another member of the family.

The brothers hurry towards the bathhouse. Before long they were splashing water and tossing the soap cake back and forth between the two wooden tubs. Johnny finished first, eager for dinner, jumping up from the tub, he toweled dried his body briskly, shaking his head to scatter droplets of water towards his brother who was enjoying a leisurely soak in the tub. Scott's long legs didn't fit completely inside the tub as he leaned back against the oak frame to relax; his feet and ankles were propped on the opposite edge.

"Come on, Scott, don't just sit there, get up," Johnny grumbled.

Scott had closed his eyes and was being lulled to sleep by the warm water, until Johnny dumped a bucket of cold water on top of his head.

"What in the hell did you do that for, Johnny?" sputtered Scott as he stood up, water streaming off his body in small rivulets. He reached for a towel to dry off before stepping from the tub.

"Ya were fallin' asleep! Time ta go! We don't want ta keep Murdoch waitin' do we?"

Scott threw daggers at Johnny with his narrowed eyes, "You don't want to keep that chocolate cake waiting is more likely."

Johnny grinned, "Well, ya have your plan, Boston. And I have mine, which does include that chocolate cake. Ya know Murdoch will just make me wait until ya butt's at the dinner table, so let's go!"

Once at the dinner table, Murdoch questioned the brothers about their extended chore of moving the cattle from one pasture to another. Satisfied that the cattle were taken care of, talk turned to the dry spell and the conditions of their other watering holes on the property. During dinner Johnny kept fidgeting and scratching at his clothes that Murdoch and Scott looked on with curiosity, while Teresa paid no never mind to Johnny.

Finally it was time for coffee and dessert, although for Johnny he poured himself another glass of milk to wash down the rich chocolate cake that a smiling Teresa set down in front of her to cut slices. Giving each of the men more than generous slices of cake; she watched and waited while they picked up their forks to dig in.

"Teresa, aren't you having any cake? Scott asked.

"Oh no, none for me. I watching my girlish figure, don't want to get as big as Mrs. Willis in Morro Coyo, now do I?"

Johnny grinned, "Oh no, Teresa, ya don't want that ta happen. I'll eat your piece ta save ya from the temptation."

"Please everyone, enjoy, I'll just sit here and watch you eat it."

With no further ado, the Lancer men put large forkfuls of cake in the mouth and chewed. Their faces looked on in wonder at the unusual taste in their mouths, swallowing the cake. Not certain what the precise flavor was, they each took another forkful that albeit were smaller bites and chewed more slowly, when suddenly an overwhelming revolting taste assaulted each of their mouths with full pledge vengeance. Coughing, swallowing, gagging and spitting out the mess from their mouths ensued. Johnny grabbed his milk to drink it down, while Scott tried water and Murdoch coffee. Meanwhile Teresa reeled in her chair, laughing uncontrolled at the sight unfolding before her.

Three pairs of eyes turned towards her, as Murdoch coughed, "TERESA, WHAT IN THE HELL DID YOU DO TO THAT CAKE?"

But Teresa didn't answer, she was laughing too hard at their misery as they kept downing their beverages to wash away the taste and put out the scorching fires that were rumbling down their throats to their stomachs.

"TERESA!" Murdoch jumped up from his chair and grabbed the borderline crazed girl to her feet, shaking her. Her eyes were void of recognition as she began singing in a bizarre fashion, "Woo hoo witchy woman see how high she flies. Woo hoo witchy woman she got the moon in her eye."**

"Murdoch, there's something very peculiar about her," gasped Scott.

"Ya think, Boston?" sputtered Johnny.

Murdoch dragged her upstairs to her room, as she continued her weird singing and wild laughing. He pushed her into her room and locked the door, as Johnny and Scott watched.

"I don't understand what's gotten into Teresa?" Murdoch croaked his throat burning as hot flames were shooting down his esophagus.

"Johnny, get Frank to ride into town for Doc Jenkins. Scott, see if Maria knows anything about that cake. How are your throats?"

"My insides feel like I swallowed hot coals," proclaimed Johnny as he continued to scratch at himself. If Johnny, known for his love of hot spicy Mexican foods felt the heat, he could only feel sorry for what Murdoch and Scott must be experiencing. But at least they weren't scratching at themselves like a dog infested with fleas thought Johnny. "Madre de Dios! That bitch must have put something in my clothes ta make me itch like a son-of-a-gun. Scott, look inside my shirt and tell me what ya see."

Scott checked the inside of Johnny's shirt, grabbing at him, rushing him back down the stairs out into the yard. "Take that shirt off Johnny; you're covered in red irritated raised welts! Head to the bathhouse and get out of all your clothes. Take another bath and wash whatever off your body and do your hair, too!"

"Just wait until I get my hands on her!"

"Yeah, Johnny what do you intend on doing to her?"

"I don't know. Wait a minute, yes, I do. I make her eat her damn cake, that's what I'll do."

"Johnny, I like how you think, let the punishment fit the crime. I'll get you a change of clothes from your room."

Scott opened Johnny's bedroom door and got a strong whiff of the smells that had been gaining strength festering in the closed off room. Running to the window he threw it open, taking a gulp of fresh air as he looked around for the source of the smells. Nothing looked out of order, but gagging he straggled out into the hallway, to open his own room. Once again, Scott was accosted by unpleasant odors; he opened his window getting a strong whiff of the curtains and realized that those were the ones that had been hanging in Teresa's room.

Grabbing a bandana from his dresser drawer, he held it tight against his nose to block off some of the stench as he ripped the curtains down and flung them out the window to the ground below. Looking around the room he didn't see anything else amiss. Venturing back to Johnny's room he quickly grabbed some clothes and ran out, slamming the door behind him.

Scott filled Murdoch in on his experience, who was sitting in his easy chair in the great room. Murdoch pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and fore fingers, sadly shook his head at the vicious acts Teresa had done, all under his nose. He concluded that there was something seriously wrong with his ward. Thinking back in his mind he picked out other occurrences since the return of his sons where the young girl had acted out in spite or jealousy.

"Sir, I need to take these clothes out to Johnny. I suspect there are other problems in our rooms that I haven't found the sources yet. Do you suppose you could ask Teresa what she did?"

"Scott, I can ask. But you can hear her. She's still up there singing that damn song. I don't know if the girl has the mental capacities to tell me or if she would if she could."

In due time some semblance of order was restored at the hacienda as Doc Jenkins arrived examining his patients. Johnny's skin was filled with red, itchy bumps that Doc Jenkins suspected was poisoned ivy. He treated the skin irritations with calamine lotion, making Johnny's tanned skin look blotchy with specks of the pink lotion, dotting the back of his neck, his arms, legs and torso. The lotion did offer relief from the itchiness that had driven him to swallow a few glasses of tequila.

Doc Jenkins next examined the chocolate cake left sitting on the table, sniffing it, taking a small taste of it, spitting it out instantly. "How much of this did you fellas eat?"

"Not much Sam, only a bite. Why? Can you tell what's in it?"

"Tastes like a blend of peppers, cayenne, black, and red, probably some of those hot chilies peppers that Johnny favors, ipecac, something's grainy as well, perhaps tobacco or some other type of minced plant. And if I'm not mistaken there's gun powder in that frosting, along with extra vanilla to disguise the smell and initial taste. It appears to me like Teresa was intentionally attempting to make you all sick. You want to tell me what's been going on around here?"

Murdoch filled Doc Jenkins in while Johnny and Scott looked sheepish at the follies that had taken place the previous week.

"Well, Murdoch, let me exam her, see if she's calmed down, you better come along incase I need you to hold her down. You boys stayed here and try not to overdo that drinking, until I know if you have any reactions to that cake."

Johnny tipped his drink glass towards Sam and raised it to his lips, but Scott yanked it away from him before he could down it.

"Hey, Scott!"

"Johnny, you heard Sam, no more, Doctor's orders."

"Boston, he said try not ta overdo. One more drink ain't overdoin' it in my book. And ya know how I feel about orders."

"Nope, little brother, this is one order you're going to obey. Besides, you better go upstairs and see if your bloodhound nose can unearth what's causing the ungodly odors in your room. I got rid of the curtains from mine but couldn't locate what reeks in your room."

The brother tramped upstairs, to the sound of Teresa's sing-songy ditty. Johnny looked at Scott, "Brother, I think she's gone loco. That's one unhinged puta in there."

"Something is unquestionably the matter with her that much we do know."

Johnny and Scott rummage around their rooms. Johnny looked under his bed saw something hiding in the corner; he used his boot to draw it out, suppressing a gag as his nose got a whiff of it. "Madre de Dios!" he yelled as he pulled back the covers on his bed, intending to use it to pick up the foul rag. As another wave of putrid orders accosted his nose he retched as he saw the yellow and brown stains on the sheets. "I will shoot her."

Scott stood in Johnny's doorway, "Ah, I see you have found the sources, brother. She short-sheeted my bed and left me a gift under my bed. Good thing we have extra rooms around here, because we can't sleep in our rooms tonight."

Johnny wrestled as he pulled the mess from his bed and hauled it to the window. As he and Scott pushed the assortment of blankets, pillows, sheets, rags and one filthy mattress down to the courtyard, he calmly replied, "That's for certain. Almost as certain that I'm gonna plug her full of holes, force that cake down her gullet, cut off her hair and toss her into the pig sty where she belongs."

"Boys!" Turning to the sound of their father's voice, with Sam lingering in the background, they waited to hear what Murdoch had to say.

Doc Jenkins asked, "What stinks in here?"

"TERESA!" they shouted together.

Filling both men on what they had discovered in their rooms, Sam said to Murdoch, "I'll think it's time I made the necessary arrangements, Murdoch." He turned to leave, as the Lancers followed him down the stairs. At least the singing had stopped, as Johnny and Scott saw Teresa bound to her bed, with a gag to her mouth.

"Good! Serves you right!" yelled Johnny towards the wretched girl whose eyes were filled with hatred and fury, as she struggled against her bindings that didn't budge.

"Come downstairs boys," said Murdoch as he closed the door to her room. "Let's afford her some solitude to perhaps calm down."

Back in the great room, Sam told the brothers, that Teresa had suffered a nervous breakdown, was on the verge of a total collapse as she spun further and further out of emotional control. He quickly assured the brothers that they were not responsible for what was occurring. This was something both he and Murdoch had been worried could happen as they watched the girl growing-up. They had noticed that since the death of her father, Teresa's grasp of reality had begun ebbing away in small layers. Murdoch had been hopeful that with the boys' arrival, they would bring additional youth and vitality to the ranch and that Teresa would snap out of her depression as Doc Jenkins labeled it.

But it was quite clear that they had been mistaken, Teresa was instead following in her mother's footsteps, down the dismal path towards madness. The only treatment available would require sending the girl away to the sanitarium in San Francisco where she could rest and hopefully recover one day to perhaps return to Lancer in the distance future.

"Oh, no, not as long as I'm living here, do I ever want her back," groused Scott. "She could have killed us in our sleep and no one bothered to inform us that we were living with a prospective bat-shit crazed loony."

"No question about it, Boston. She's nutty than a fruitcake and smells twice as bad. If and when hell freezes over, that's when that pain in the ass can come back," Johnny gritted as he scratched, "Only if then."

# # #

A few days later a closed carriage pulled away from the hacienda. Doc Jenkins accompanied his patient, who was secured in a strait jacket and had been medicated for the long trip. As the carriage pulled away from the premises, Johnny and Scott watched, hoping that they would be finally able to relax and no longer have any worries about one small nuisance rearing her ugly head at them. Inside the carriage, Teresa blankly stared out into space.

Scott looked at Johnny with a concerned look etched upon both their faces, "What's the matter, Johnny?"

"That song she was singin', keeps playin' in my head," he grimaced. "Ya don't suppose she cursed us, do ya?"

"You know, brother, I've heard it too," Scott said. "I didn't want to mention it."

The wind picked-up as the carriage drove under the Lancer archway and with the strains of "she's a restless spirit on an endless flight, wooo hooo witchy woman, see how high she flies," drifted back towards them. Johnny crossed himself quickly while Scott gulped as they hurried back inside the hacienda and shut the door.

~Fin~

Sun Dancer

Note: **Lyrics from "Witchy Woman" by Don Henley and Bernie Leadon


End file.
